


the sky's been cloudy lately

by vhirapi



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Regret, Self-Hatred, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, hmm making myself cry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vhirapi/pseuds/vhirapi
Summary: Taako doesn't know how to fix his mistakes.He realizes he loves Angus.Taako doesn't know how to fix his mistakes, so he guesses that Angus is stuck with him now.





	1. he's known, always

**Author's Note:**

> Hm, didn't realize that I was going to make myself cry with my own writing, but I guess that's the shit with fanfics. have fun! It'd be nice to know if you guys would like more, cause exams are crushing me and this is a sort of 'relaxation fic' (how tho) and i'd feel better if you guys gave me a lil hope and appreciation. 
> 
> enjoy :^)

Angus _beams_ , a splitting smile on his youthful face, and _immediately_ , Taako’s heart drops to his stomach and a lump lodges itself in his throat.

Oh _fuck._

He wasn’t _prepared_ for this child, this incessantly eager-to-please bundle of joy that makes his heart sing in ways that he’s never known to miss until now, because he’s _Taako_ dammit, and he doesn’t have _feelings_ or this _fear_ of loss or a fiercely protective fire that burns within his chest.

He’s _Taako_. He’s the flippant stereotypical high-elf wizard, the loudmouth, the stupid one who sometimes does useful cantrips and maybe a neat trick sometimes, always digging his trembling fingers with a steel-like determination into anyone who would let him _stay–_

It doesn’t matter that Angus almost (almost) fills that gaping hole where his heart is supposed to be, it doesn’t matter that Angus’s eagerness and proficiency in magic sparks a small competitive streak that is so _familiar_ in his eyes, none of it holds any ground after Taako realizes that he oozes poison.

And he’s rather miffed to realize that he would rather die than let Angus near it. 

“Sir?” They’re walking now, down the pathways of the Bureau of Balance.

“What, Ango?”

“Well, I am the world’s greatest detective, but, um, I realize that sometimes when I investigate I sometimes invade the privacy of my friends! And I don’t think that is very nice to them, and I’d rather like to remain friends, so…” He thumbs the edges of the book that he’s carrying, and says, “Would you tell me what happened to… t-to your TV show? So, so I can understand why you do the things you do, maybe?”

Taako freezes. The tip of his Umbra Staff clacks on the floor as he stops in the middle of the hallway, but his mind is _racing._ So many voices split through his head, each more malicious than the next; _What have you done?! You killed my_ family _why do you still show your face around here, like, like nothing is wrong? I’ve heard about you, wizard. You were the one that slaughtered them in cold blood, without warning and in such a cowardly way–_

“Sir!”

Taako blinks, and Angus is tugging at the edge of his robe, eyes wide and a little frantic as employees of the Bureau of Balance weave around them with curious glances. Immediately resuming his regular pace and paying Angus no mind, Taako elects to forget that ever happened and ignore him as usual. Except. Except his fingers are still gently tugging his robe like he was afraid to actually grab it – as he should – but still unwilling to actually let him go. Taako raises a perfect eyebrow.

“Agnes?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Why are you still touching me?” Angus’s hands let go, but it didn’t deter him in any way from following Taako’s heels, nearly stepping on them.

“Well, sir, you kind of zoned out there when I asked about the TV thing? But it actually tells me a lot about what could have happened, and–”

Taako felt sick. He didn’t want to _talk about it,_ he didn’t want to _get it out._ All that therapy bullshit about how not keeping it in will help him heal, help him get over it, were lies to incriminate him further, bury him in a guilt so deep nobody is willing to hear him scream. He didn’t _want_ any of that, but here Angus is, the only one with enough wits about him to actually figure out what happened, what a _monster_ he is, and suddenly Taako’s fear crescendos until he feels the cold and guarded persona rise up around him like a cocoon.

“ _Angus._ ” And Taako turns around abruptly, watching Angus try to match the suddenness of his movements and almost fall, taking a sort of sick satisfaction in seeing the shock on his face. And then he was kind of scared, because he felt the poison rising in his veins, he felt it pile up behind his throat like he swallowed a viper that dug its fangs into his tongue. No, Angus didn’t deserve this, he didn’t, he absolutely _didn’t_ but now it was piling and flowing without his command–

“I don’t _care_ about you, can’t you see that? Did you really think I liked teaching you magic lessons? These are _cantrips_. I am an accomplished wizard who’s got more things to do than teach some _boy_ how can’t even prestidigitate more spells he’s got no chance of mastering. Well, I guess it’s understandable why, anyways.”

No no no _no, no don’t say it don’t-_

“For a boy who’s got no family, it’s only logical you try to cling to everyone you see.”

Oh _fuck._ The regret that rushes him like a torrent of freezing water almost knocks him over when Angus’s face scrunches up in that way where he’s trying his best not to cry (and Taako’s screaming, god Angus, just _cry_ nobody’s going to criticize you for _crying just CRY SO THEY CAN BLAME IT ON ME JUST CRY)_ , but Angus just swallows and takes a shuddering breath, and excuses himself before Taako can say anything else.

But even as Angus’s quick footsteps and tiny sniffles haunt him like the screams of a banshee, the chains of his pride fasten around his neck, and he hates himself, he hates himself, he _hates himself_ for not running after him, not grabbing him and saying he’s sorry, for never holding him like he’s something precious because god, fuck, this is just who he is, and he can’t _fucking change._

The news of his altercation spreads quickly through the employees of the Bureau, and Taako realizes this when he wakes up to Merle and Magnus at the foot of his bed, disapproving looks on their faces. And oh, isn’t this just perfect? To be at the cusp of losing so many people at once?

And this, this is just _great_ because he ran out of his favorite nail polish last night when he dropped it while contemplating his life choices (not good), and trying to fill that hole in his chest with superficial things like beauty supplies and hair care. Trying to figure out just why it felt so wrong to want to cut his hair a little, why something just settles in his chest when he looks into the mirror to his reflection that’s just on this side of feminine.

Even waking up now is a bother, and these few days which have passed seems like a catalyst that sets off too many things at once, too much, and not enough of something he just can’t name. It’s been years since he’s felt like doing something to hurt himself, or crying till his tears turns bloody, or most ridiculously, begging for comfort from those around him like a dog searching for scraps.

Thinking about the way that people are going to look at him the second he steps outside of his doors is…no. It’s too similar to when he was on the run, hits too close to his past and too close to home, this home, _his home_.

So, he ignores them flippantly, pretending the guilt is washing off him instead of clogging his lungs, and goes about his business as usual. But they keep pestering him with questions about what happened, giving him _unnecessary_ updates on how Angus is doing, even have the fucking audacity to _ask_ him if _he’s_ okay, as if Taako the haughty wizard whose heart is so rash that he would yell at a child was hurt by _any of this–_

And. And he’s _tired._ He wants them to _stop_ and he’s never had this weird family with this weird support system just for him and he doesn’t want it but he _does_ because _something_ feels right but wrong and he deals with it the only way he knows how.

He smirks to Magnus after he steps a bit too close, and spits out barbed words about his lack of intellect, which, you know, in retrospect, seems pretty fucking assholish, but it’s too late now and they both look like they’re on the edge of doing _something_ so why shouldn’t Taako push them over? He’s already sent Angus crying, and even if he tries his hardest to keep them by sheer will, it won’t work, because he’ll never be _enough_.

He’s always been good at pretending otherwise, anyways.

Taako stands there in the ensuing silence, and the cold settles over him, regretfully familiar and nearly nostalgic, waiting for the verdict that would fall, hoping that this time, maybe he’s protected himself enough for it not to _hurt_ anymore.

But as good as an actor Taako is, his body still betrays him in the smallest of ways; the way that he holds himself, stiff and cold, the small, nearly imperceptible trembling of his ears, the crossed arms and defensive posture.

And, he doesn’t notice it, not really, but Magnus does. Though Magnus can’t really offer his help when Angus asks him to read to him, or understand the things that some people around him talk about, no one can say that Magnus doesn’t love, doesn’t always offer his help, arms outstretched, heart open.

He sees.

He sees what Taako doesn’t say.

And then he offers.

Taako’s eyes and head whip back to Magnus’s approaching figure, but before he can back up, before he could do anything other than blink, he feels strong, _warm_ arms around him, gentle and firm and unexpected and _fuck_ his eyes are burning with tears he hadn’t given permission to gather, but now his breaths are a little shaky and he somehow overlooked how close to the brink he was until Magnus pulled him back.

“Sorry – sort of impulsive, but I think you needed it.”

Why, what did he have to apologize about? This man that throws around apologies like they’re nothing, where sorrys just tumble out of his lips a dime a dozen yet still sound so stupidly sincere. Taako’s apologies feel awkward, sharp, like fragments of glass cutting out his heart and thrust into his throat, or just fake, and hollow, feigned like his life.

Where did his heart go?

Merle stands off to the side, watching this unfold with acceptance and a hint of exasperation, but ultimately stands beside Magnus and taps Taako’s leg with his Extreme Teen Bible. Even if Taako refuses to lift his head up (tear streaks just aren’t attractive, and he’s not feeling very well right now), Merle just speaks quietly, privately, offering words of understanding, encouragement, throwing around bad jokes and tidbits of wisdom.

And in this quiet moment of soft murmurs and softer hands, Taako starts to lean back from that precipice, and comes back. Not good, but better. He pushes at Magnus’s chest gently, and dabs at the moisture on his face with Magnus’s cloak, sending a watery and wavering smile up at him. He composes himself, bit by bit, and Merle and Magnus offer no judgement, just peace and time.

Taako takes a deep breath. Under the slightly expectant gazes of his (friends), Taako feels a weight lift ever so slightly off his chest, giving him more air; a little more clarity, hope.

He mutters, loud enough for Merle and Magnus; “I have to talk to Ango.”


	2. parallels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus just wants to be a little kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is set on the same day as taako's outburst, but before magnus gets to talk to taako cause lmao he's gonna go for ango first come on guys

Angus’s books have always been a comfort, familiar like a home that’s since forgotten him. If he curls up against a corner and dim the lights just so, it almost feels like those nights in his grandfather’s office, surrounded by oak stacks and the wavering glow of candlelight. Unfortunately, it might’ve been one of the factors that diminished his eyesight, but he feels like the trade is even.

He’s doing that now, in his own little room beside Lucretia’s sleeping quarters. He isn’t really sure _why_ his room is right beside hers, since everyone else is in a different department, but he feels better about it anyways, even if she disappears for long stretches of times without telling anyone.

But today’s kind of different, cause he’s been here a while now, and his eyes keep skimming over the same paragraph, again and again, without really registering anything but the weird feeling in his chest.

It’s the part in the third book, where Caleb is confronted by the same tag-team cop-duo that’s been hindering his detective work since the first installment, both very annoyed by the way Caleb seems to do their job better than them, but Angus _knows_ , knows that Caleb is just smarter, keener, more perceptive than anybody else.

_“What do you know? You’re just a kid!”_

Back home, when he would spend his time in the courtyard, watching, always seeing the people that would exit and enter, Angus was privy to things that people wouldn’t suspect him of. The mistress. The embezzling maid. The sleazy businessmen that his father continues to deal with, even though Angus pleads with him not to, not to let them in their house anymore because Angus gets scared of the way they look at him.

_“You think you’re better than us, eh, boy? It’s not like you can do anything to get at us. Doesn’t that sting?”_

And people weren’t pleased about it, when he started speaking up. So for a while, he didn’t. Well, it wasn’t really a choice he willingly made, but more of a way to stop the looks he kept on getting from his parents.

On nights like these, he wishes he was like Caleb.

_As they advance on the small form of Caleb Cleveland, the boy detective finds courage in himself, in the people who trusts in him, in the people he’s helped, and stands his ground fearlessly._

_The insults are nothing to him, but language is power, and Caleb knows that better than anyone._

_His figure was small, but his heart sits strong._

_“You’re nothing more than a bully that grew up and never changed, but the pond is too big now and you’re not the biggest fish here!” His voice, once timid, grows and grows in the face of these two men, and they stop in surprise._

_From the side of the warehouse bursts in–_

Angus stops.

Rereads it again.

He tries to see a parallel in this, but pieces are refusing to fall into place, and he’s not sure if they even _should_ but then why was he obsessing over this in the first place? He stops.  

Rereads it again.

Stops.

Taako had yelled at him today. And, well, even though Angus _is_ a little boy, he still had the determination and guts to go out and solve mysteries that nobody else could so it didn’t really make sense for him to be _upset_ by a few words _,_ per se, but the feeling in his chest grows a little more and his eyes feel funny.

He had said ‘ _no family’_.

It isn’t as if it’s not _true_ ; when Angus thinks about tall oak bookcases and the tan, wrinkled skin of his grandfather, it hurts when his heart screams _family_ but his mind thinks _(he doesn’t think that way back)._

  _(still kind of hurts)_

Insistently clean marble floors and flawless golden drapes don’t mean much to him; fanciful pocket watches and pristine white gloves don’t either; the smell of old books and warm hugs and a dark study _rips_ _into him_ violently enough to make him sick, make him regret finding the Bureau, regret _everything–_

He stops.

Angus tries to solve what happened today, analytically like an adult, and empathetically like Caleb, but his head hurts when he tries; was it his fault? Does Taako really think that way about him? Why did he run away? Why didn’t he run after him? _Why–_

He closes the book abruptly, but neither moves nor places the book to the side.

He realizes he’s kind of tired.

But, not in the normal sense of tired. Tired like his shoulders are too heavy, tired like his lungs are getting harder and harder to move, tired like loneliness. Tired in the same way that maybe Taako is, but then he doesn’t understand why Taako would then push him away, but right now he doesn’t understand much of anything.

A knock on the door snaps him out of it, and Angus shifts off the bed to answer, slightly disoriented and furiously rubbing at his eyes.

“Hello? It’s, uh, it’s a bit late, sir _–_ ”

“Hey Angus,” Magnus smiles, and Angus looks up in surprise and a little bit of apprehension.

“Oh! It’s you! I’m,” He stops, and looks around. “Did Taako send you? Because I really am sorry since I think I’m the one that pushed him to do that? And I’m sure it was bringing up some bad memories or something _and_ ”

“Angus.” Magnus stops Angus gently, and Angus’s mouth snaps closed. “Taako didn’t send me. If Taako wants to do something, he can do it himself. I-uh, can I come in? Are you…” his eyes land on the book on Angus’s bed. “Did I interrupt you?”

“…not at all, you can come in.” Angus opens his door to let Magnus’s hulking frame inside, and closes it afterwards. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I heard about what happened today. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says offhandedly, flipping through Angus’s personal copy of Caleb Cleveland, eyes skipping over words and sentences strangely. Like he didn’t just absolutely stump Angus with just a few words.

“Uh, wanted to make sure I was okay? Sir?”

“Call me Magnus.”

“Magnus. Why would, I mean, you weren’t really involved in this though, right?” More words clamber behind Angus’s throat waiting to be let out the second he lets down his guard, so he holds steady and waits. Like a good boy.

“Haha, Ango, it’s hard to not be involved when my friends hurt each other, accident or not.” He shrugs, and continues. “I guess it’s not really any of my business? But I care about you, so…how’re you doing? I heard it was a real doozy.”

_What?_ Angus thinks. He furrows his eyebrows and twiddles his thumbs.

_Strike one,_ _his mother says._

He stops twiddling.

“I’m, I’m fine. I’m doing alright. I feel kind of guilty about leaving him like that though, I’m not sure if he meant, uh.” He swallows after a pause. “If he meant everything he said, but I shouldn’t have left a conversation so abruptly. It was rude of me _–_

“Ango, my dude.” Magnus’s hand lands on both his shoulders kind of awkwardly, like he was going to go for a hug and then stopped halfway. “From what I heard, it wasn’t much of a conversation, was it? More of like an outburst, I think. It’s fine to take yourself away from a situation that hurts you, Ango.” He shrugs and Angus could feel it. “Nobody can blame you for that.”

It’s weird, Angus thinks, that his shoulders feel lighter with Magnus’s hands on them.

He tentatively takes a step forward, arms raised just a little bit by the side, and he’s not really sure how to ask for a hug? Cause everyone else has always had boundaries with him and the three Reclaimers just…did whatever. So, he just steps forward, and Magnus’s face lights up in a smile and he steps forward and Angus’s face is buried in a warm jacket that smells of wood and scented oil.

“Thanks, Magnus.”

They hug for a while, and Angus disengages first, a little bit embarrassed at how long it went on, but Magnus didn’t seem to mind, so they just kind of settle around in Angus’s room and chat for a bit about Caleb Cleveland, cafeteria food, Madam Director, and the various benefits of being an adventuring carpenter.

It’s a nice night, Angus realizes.

And Magnus doesn’t really bring up the Incident earlier that day until Angus breaches the topic with; “Why is Taako so angry?”

He had to stop for a minute (both of them); one to think, and one to regret ever saying that at all.

_Strike two, his mother says. Why would you bring up that ugly topic when we were having such a good time?_

“Sorry, I was a little out of bounds there _–_ ”

“I think he’s lost.” Magnus says. “He behaves like it’s him against the world, but _–_ well, this is kind of weird, but it’s like he’s always expecting something when he turns around, or when he shoots off a one-liner, but. Well. He doesn’t tell us much either, Angus. Sorry I can’t help you with this.”

“No, you’ve more than helped me at this point.” Angus confesses, and Magnus shoots him a smile. “I just…” He pauses, but Magnus motions for him to keep going.

“Um, it hurt when he said that.” He whispers. “That I cling to everyone I see because my family is gone, and,”

_Strike three, his mother says–_

“Well, no duh.” Angus looks up. “I’d be surprised if that _didn’t_ hurt. Just cause he’s got some shit –oh, sorry, uh… _crap_ of his own to sort out doesn’t excuse what he did.” Magnus’s eyes soften and he lets out a breath. “It wasn’t okay of him to do that.”

Angus sniffles and wipes at his eyes, and Magnus sits there calmly. He puts his arms around Angus, and waits.

When Magnus says goodbye a little later, he gives Angus another big hug, and leaves Angus feeling a little lighter. (A few seconds later he rushes back into the room, dropping a small wooden duck in Angus’s palm with a “forgot this!” and rushes out just as fast.)

And Angus goes to bed less tired. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! these are turning into character specific one shots!! where ?? is the continuation :^)
> 
> again, still no beta, kind of messy, hope u enjoyed! !
> 
> (not fuckng joking i love all comments + critiques pls spill down below)

**Author's Note:**

> OH ALSO :  
> i have no beta, excuse mistakes, i'm open to offers but lmao as you may have seen, my sentences are unconventional and follow more of a 'stream of consciousness' style :^)  
> i hope u enjoyed!! umm hopefully more chapters??


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